


Dance Practice

by pixiedustatsundown



Series: Sapphic September 2019 [11]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, F/F, Sapphic September, Strangers to Lovers, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 16:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20603723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixiedustatsundown/pseuds/pixiedustatsundown
Summary: Fleur desperately needs someone to train her choreography with. Asking the attractive stranger on the train was either the best or the worst thing she could have done.





	Dance Practice

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the prompt "Where do you want me to touch?" by [OTPshipper98](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OTPshipper98)

“Can I help you?” Fleur startles at the voice, blushing as she realises the woman she has rudely been staring at is frowning at her. She really tried not to be too frank about it, but apparently she failed. Stealth has never been her strong suit. Luckily she had never gotten herself into a situation her charm and bright smile couldn’t get her out of again; this will be no different. 

Completely ignoring the sarcasm and the obvious hint to _leave her alone and look at her phone like everyone else, _Fleur gives her a big smile and holds out her hand. The woman rises her eyebrow at that, shaking her hand more out of instinct than intent. She has a strong grip, big hands; she would be able to support Fleur properly. Fleur blushes at the thought of feeling those hands on her waist, quickly moving on and trying not to appear flustered. 

“Fleur Delacour.” The woman either doesn’t know that it’s polite to offer her own name in exchange or plain doesn’t care, but after waiting entirely too long and not receiving an answer, Fleur continues. “I apologise for staring at you, but I couldn’t help but notice that you appear to be rather strong. I happen to be desperately searching for a dance partner, someone who would be able to lift me so I can train the crucial parts of my performance. I hoped you would be willing to lend me some of your time. You will be compensated; of course, we’ll have to talk about the specifics but-” 

Fleur is grateful as the woman interrupts her, getting nervous under her blank stare and babbling to cover for it. “You are saying you want me to lift you? You don’t even _know_ me, how do you know I won’t just let you fall?” 

That’s a valid concern, one Fleur didn’t waste one second on, too excited to worry. And now it’s too late to dwell on it, her stop reached and forcing a decision. “I’ll trust you on that one; call it faith in humanity if you have to. This is my stop though, so I have to leave here. Are you coming with me?” 

The woman gives her a considering look, lingering longer than necessary and making Fleur blush. But then she nods, gesturing for Fleur to lead the way. 

An awkward silence settles over them the moment they leave the train, swiftly walking next to each other without so much as exchanging a glance. Fleur doesn’t know what to do, how to handle this situation. She honestly didn’t expect the woman to agree to her frankly crazy idea. Who would? But she did, and Fleur really does need the practice, and it would be rude to send her away now. 

Mind whirring with frantic thoughts, they arrive much sooner than Fleur expected. Which is a good thing of course, because now Fleur knows what she wants, can direct and command and doesn’t have to battle unexpected silences. She usually is much better at handling people, charms them with a smile and watches them dance in the palm of her hand, but the woman doesn’t seem impressed with her smile at all, doesn’t give her anything to work with. It’s most unsettling, intriguing. 

Fleur is used to being watched, even used to people shouting corrections and needless commentary at her, one would think she could do her very familiar routine to warm up and ignore the quiet presence. It turns out she can’t, hyper aware of the eyes following her through the room. She doesn’t know what it is about her, why Fleur is so affected. 

Explaining what she needs her to do isn’t any easier, against all her hope. She listens attentively, an adorable frown on her face as she nods along. Her expressions are on odd mix between stoic, giving nothing away and bordering on cold, and this almost child-like openness, displaying every thought as clearly as if put in words. 

“Where do you want me to touch?” The question is blunt, startling Fleur once again out of a increasingly boring monologue, she really needs to get it together. It’s difficult though, the woman smiling down at her, indulging her mumblings with a patience people don’t usually have. Fleur is hit once again with that quiet power she possesses, the power that initially drew her in and that hasn’t let her go since. Too enamoured to speak, afraid she would embarrass herself if she tried, Fleur guides her hands to her hips, settling them gently and reminding herself that this is about dancing and therefore any thoughts _not_ concerning dance are highly inappropriate. 

She is close suddenly, closer than necessary really but not as close as Fleur would like, hands holding her tightly. Fleur stars at her, unsure if this is indeed what she thinks it is or if she is projecting her own desires and completely misinterpreting the situation. But she is close enough to kiss, Fleur would just have to lean up a little - how is she supposed to not think about it? 

“I’m Millicent, in case you wondered.” And then her lips are on Fleur’s, warm and soft and even better than they looked. 

Fleur couldn’t have picked someone better to help her out. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated!  
If you liked this story you can [reblog it on Tumblr](https://pixiedustatsundown.tumblr.com/post/187644985893/dance-practice)


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